


The Gift

by scrapbullet



Category: Inception
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-22
Updated: 2011-04-22
Packaged: 2017-10-24 01:46:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/257518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrapbullet/pseuds/scrapbullet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The skin against his lips tastes of blood and sweat and heat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gift

The skin against his lips tastes of blood and sweat and heat. With every breath it rises and falls, the vulnerable underbelly twitching as his teeth catch, sink in deep to devour the very essence within. Robert moans, spreads his legs as Eames settles in, moulding himself so close that they are as one; one exhalation, one entity. "Did you miss me?"

"Yes." Robert's voice hitches, breathless.

"Is that why you laid yourself out for me like this, hmm?" Eames chuckles, spans his palm over the heaving chest of his lover and practically purrs with smug delight, ducking his head to nuzzle at the aching flesh below Robert's navel. Come morning there will be such a lovely bruise, a claim, though the desire to break the skin is too much for him to bear. His mouth waters, starving.

When he strikes, Robert screams. He thrashes so very beautifully. Eames bites down deep, drinks him in until his mouth is slick with red. A hard cock bumps against his chin and he grasps it with deft fingers, stripping it from root to tip. He knows how to play him, knows all too well that if he applies just the right pressure Robert will come apart at the seams, will arch his body like a wave and keen in a way that makes Eames want to hollow him out and crawl inside, make himself at home in the gore and soft organs; kiss the white ribcage and fondle the beating heart.

There’s just something about Robert that makes him want to be _savage_.

“Well, you’re quite the gift,” he continues, revelling in the sultry moans that pass lush lips. “A beautiful tragedy.” Pain and pleasure combines on Robert’s face. It’s more than beautiful. It’s indescribable.

Robert hums, delirious. His eyes, dark and hooded, rest on Eames and are akin to a loving kiss. “But yours.”

Possessive, Eames presses a chaste kiss to a bony hip. “Yes, mine.”

Growling, Eames thumbs the weeping cockhead with renewed fervour. He shouldn’t be indulging his pet in such a way, not when he’s been a cheeky little bastard this past week and yet, he can’t resist. Can’t, and he strokes Robert until his body is a taut string, hips raising to meet each blissful stroke and when that gorgeous sack tightens up against his body he cries out, as close and needy as Eames has ever seen him-

Which is why, of course, he stops.

Robert sucks in a breath, dazed. “What, Eames-”

Eames slaps him across the face and Robert blinks, shocked. The pale flesh of his cheek blooms crimson, and a warmth spreads in his chest; smug satisfaction. Putting his pet in his place tends to have such an effect on him.

“You don’t get to come, darling. Not this time.”

Robert trembles.


End file.
